


Free as a Bird

by Pukayio



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Boys In Love, Depression, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Sad Ending, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, but not really?, fluff if you squint, it's not as graphic as the tags make it out to be, spoiler: it's not a sad ending, spoiler: luhan is a doctor;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-02 22:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13328169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pukayio/pseuds/Pukayio
Summary: "birds are free, aren't they?"-Jongdae finds an unconscious Xiumin in their bathroom and it soon becomes clear he'd tried to kill himself.





	Free as a Bird

**Author's Note:**

> i know this is a touchy subject considering Jonghyun's suicide not too long ago, but i felt the need to post this. depression among artists (especially kpop idols) is not talked about enough and i think the amount of suicides inside this specific group is the proof of that. i know his death has been hard on so many people and i had quite a difficult time after the news as well. i chose not to let it get me down too much though, so here i am. 
> 
> proceed with caution.

So what happens when you find your best friend unconscious on the bathroom floor with both his wrists slit at three in the morning?

 

You call an ambulance.

 

And, like any other person, that’s exactly what Jongdae did. Informing the tired sounding woman on the other end of the line about the situation and requesting an ambulance _as soon as fucking possible._

Jongdae didn’t cuss.

 

Although he’d obviously told the woman as soon as possible, the ambulance didn’t arrive until a few minutes later and any attempts to wake up Minseok in the meantime had failed. While Jongdae was rushing towards the front door, he worried for a split second if leaving him behind would worsen the situation. _But,_ he thought immediately after, the situation was already at its worst. So with shaking hands he opened the door and heaved a small, not yet relieved, sigh.  
The paramedics struggled to get all of their equipment through the small entrance but finally found their way around and located their patient very quickly.

They did whatever paramedics did to stabilize a person who just failed a suicide attempt. Temporarily bandaged the wrists after some disinfecting so the patient wouldn’t suffer from severe blood loss and an oxygen mask to keep him alive enough for the trip towards the hospital.

But Jongdae wasn’t satisfied with the service at all. They were too slow for him. The paramedics did their job just fine, though. It was just that to him; every minute going by could mean the end for his friend. Time was ticking away and he couldn’t stop thinking about how he himself might’ve been too late.

Jongdae kept fidgeting while the paramedics secured Minseok inside the back of the ambulance and watched carefully how a small machine was keeping track of his heartbeat. _Minseok’s_ hearbeat, he realized with relief. His best friend would be fine, after all.

 

But would he? Could Jongdae live the rest of his life knowing that his best friend wasn’t a content person. That he put up a show for everyone on the outside to see but was tearing him up from the inside. Could he handle that? Not knowing why his friend has been living like that for so long?

 

He didn’t think he could.

 

Because when the ambulance arrived at the hospital, after Jongdae had begged to stay with Minseok during the ride, and the doctor asked him what the cause of Minseok’s wounds were, Jongdae could only answer by staring straight back at the tall man.  
So the doctor formulated the question differently and simply asked him: why?

 

Jongdae could not answer that.

 

Instead he noticed how the doctor’s nametag read: ‘Lu Han’ and wondered if the man was Chinese and if he missed his parents like Minseok might be missing someone too. Or if the man saw his parents daily and was as happy as any other person.

Maybe Minseok had been happy once, but there were no traces of that happiness in the pale face he wore when Jongdae found him. 

He asked the doctor if his best friend would be okay and Lu Han nodded, ignoring the fact that Jongdae hadn’t answered his question and offered the other man coffee while nurses took care of further stabilizing Minseok.

After getting themselves some coffee, Jongdae found himself enjoying Lu Han’s company more and more and was glad that such a great man would be his best friend’s doctor.

 

Jongdae spend the next couple days at the hospital, refusing to go home and risk not being there when Minseok finally woke up. But he didn’t wake up and after a week Jongdae decided that he smelled too much of coffee, cologne and sweat to be socially acceptable. So he took a bus home and showered for what felt like ages but was really just twenty minutes.

Although he’d told himself to hurry so he could get back to the hospital, he couldn’t help himself. It was the blood stains on the white tiles in the bathroom. It was the small razor that Jongdae found beneath the sink. It was the letter with smudges of red telling him that Minseok was sorry and that he hadn't meant to hurt him and that it wasn't his fault.  
Jongdae blamed all of those things for crying himself to sleep and loosing track of time.

 

He didn’t usually cry.

 

When he woke up, letter crumbled against his chest and eyes puffy with sleep and dried tears, he realized two things. One, he should’ve been back at the hospital a long while ago. And two, the bed smelled like Minseok.

After checking the time and realizing that he’d wasted too much time sleeping, he rushed towards the kitchen and made a to-go-sandwich so he could get on the subway in time and not disappoint his best friend by skipping lunch.

He arrived at the head entrance of the hospital in no time and didn’t even bother to ask directions at the desk. He’d spend a week of waiting in these hallways. A week of hoping, and praying, and wandering.

Again, he found himself hoping as he made his way towards Minseok’s room.

It was no surprise, though, to see the smaller man still unconscious and it didn’t help Jongdae’s aching heart from bruising a little more.

He quietly moved over to stand beside Minseok’s bed and heaved a sigh. He was tired, so so tired and he didn’t know if his friend would ever see the light of day again.

Carefully, he traced the bandages covering his best friend’s wrist to his hand and held it tightly. Tight enough to ensure him that he was still there and that he would survive, but not tight enough to hurt Minseok.

Although Jongdae desperately wished he could wake up his best friend, he knew he'd had to wait until Minseok chose to wake up himself. But he couldn't wait, he wanted his best friend awake and alive and by his side, because he loved him.

 

 §

 

 All Minseok remembered was that he'd told his best friend goodnight and went to bed. After that he didn't sleep. He stayed awake and when he was sure that Jongdae was fully asleep, he silently made his way over to the bathroom. He didn’t know what was happening to him, he just knew that the darkness of the night was soothing and he felt more alive than ever.  
He didn’t need the bathroom lights but he turned them on anyway.  
Minseok stared at his reflection and he saw sadness, so much sadness that it inflicted a pain deep within himself. A pain he thought he’d buried back in his high school years. But it was there, still dully aching like a bruise getting poked at. He kept staring at himself in the mirror and he found more and more imperfections. The Q-shaped scar on his left cheek and the way his right eye was slightly smaller when he attempted to smile. He could see the way his front teeth stood out from the other teeth and he hated it.  
Minseok knew none of these minor flaws mattered, because what really mattered was what’s inside one’s heart. Unfortunately for him, inside his heart was only hatred. Hatred for himself and hatred for his life. He was happy, sure, but he did not _feel_ it. He felt nothing. Kim MInseok was an empty shell whose soul had been gone for quite some time and staring at his reflection only reminded him of that fact.

 

Minseok didn’t need facts, because he already knew.

 

He tried hiding his pain for so long, he tried smiling until his cheeks hurt, he tried laughing out loud. But his pain still showed, even if it was just him who could see. His smiles never truly reached his eyes and his laughs were empty sounds of air pushed out of his lungs.  
He wanted nothing more than to be free.

 

 _Birds are free, aren’t they?_ Minseok thought as he reached for the blade he hid beneath the sink in a small box of feathers.  
_Do birds feel pain?_ He thought as the cool metal kissed his skin. He looked at himself in the mirror and he smiled. Crooked and wicked and in pain and most of all, utterly broken.  
_I don’t think they do,_ he told himself as he pressed down the blade.

 

Minseok’s favorite color was definitely red.

 

Deep red like the blood flowing through his veins and out of the wound he’d created. Bright red like Jongdae’s comfiest sweater. Soft red like the lip balm Jongdae often wears.  Dusty red like Jongdae’s cheeks when he’s embarrassed by one of Minseok’s jokes.

Oh, yes. Red was such a pretty shade.

 

MInseok didn’t know when or how, but his other wrist became just as numb as the first one and he felt dizzy. He saw the walls spinning, but _what a beautiful red on the tiles._ He felt himself collapse and that’s when he realized things were finally going as planned.

 

Except, Minseok never plans anything.

 

So, eventually, it had been no surprise when he woke up. Eyes squinting in the bright light and head throbbing. It took all his will not to believe it was heaven. Because he was sure that whatever heaven felt like, it was nothing compared to this exhaustion. Minseok felt so tired, his eyelids drooping and his breathing shallow. But he managed to find a comfortable enough position to look at his surroundings. And as soon as he saw the person sleeping peacefully in a chair next to him, he was glad that he was alive. So, so glad that he wasn’t free yet. Because if being free only existed without his precious Jongdae, he’d rather be chained down to this place for eternity.

 

**Author's Note:**

> if you feel sad please talk to someone! i know how it is to be depressed and suicidal, believe me, but talking helps a lot. if i can't help myself, i might as well help others not to get too lost in themselves.
> 
> national suicide prevention lifeline: 1-800-273-8255
> 
> [YOU ARE LOVED JONGHYUN]


End file.
